


Spell

by Aredriseth



Category: The Founder of Diabolism, The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 06:19:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14826971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aredriseth/pseuds/Aredriseth
Summary: It was an old spell he worked upon years ago and never completed, but now he needed it more than ever.





	Spell

It was a special technique, one that he created too, but it was also one of his hardest techniques only a number of people would be able to do, let alone do it right. Die to his early death, he was unable to ever finish it, to perfect it, but if he managed to do that it would be his most powerful one as of yet, which is why it was held to such a high standard of secrecy. No one apart of him would be able to do it, but just the chance that someone got only a step from where the spell was, was enough to warrant all of the scripts to be burned, annihilated and their dust being protected day and night. Their dust! And that even after they made sure that the invention of it never left the small circle of people who knew about it.

But that did not matter, as Wei would and could continue working on it. It would take a bit untill he got his previous spirit back in this body, but for now he could continue working out potential ways to get it where he intended in to be, as well as improving some other inventions he was unable to finish. He used to be a very busy man, he realised. 

As it was now, he could only continue using the early stages of the spell, which allowed him to paint whatever he wanted and immediately transfer into the painting. He drew a tall man sitting under a tree looking at the sea, his black hair and mourning clothes his most defined features. Not long after, Wei himself was at the bright meadow looking at WangJi from the side, who in turn didn't notice him. That's where the spell was at, with Wei's limited memories making it impossible for him to continue straight where he left the spell at. He could look at Lan Zhan, stare at him as the wind blew through his hair and hear a soft music around him, but he couldn't interact with him anymore as he used to. Both in real life as well as in the spell. 

Lan Zhan died.

He died an honorable death, in a gruesome battle protecting him. 

Wei Wuxian stopped the spell, couldn't bear to look at his deceased husband anymore, his mourning clothes only a bitter reminder of his premature death. 

He focused all his efforts on advancing the spell; drew countless of pictures and scenes that afterwards ended with his face tear streaked. Then, around six months of daily work, he got the spell to its previous state, now allowing Wei to live through the picture as if it was the actual reality of his days. 

Soon, his days were filled with daily dates with his husband, carefree and wholesome. They drank tea, they went fishing, were intimate at times, but it wasn't enough. The person looked like Lan Zhan, behaved like him, but he wasn't Lan Zhan and would never be. He was nothing but a part of Wei's imagination. He was happy to relive happy memories, but in the end it made him only sadder knowing that nothing of it was real.

He continued working. It was only a matter of time until he got it right, enabling him to manipulate time and space. Then, he would be able to have his lover back, and only then.


End file.
